


09. Pool

by strangeera



Series: Blew It [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, High School, Horror, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeera/pseuds/strangeera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drugs, the internet, first kisses and the graveyard. psychic energy at the pool. sterek high school au. vignette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles

I'm snorting average cocaine off of the back of a Mayday Parade CD I found in Derek's dresser in Derek's bedroom next to an old Vans shoebox full of spare change and old receipts from Starbucks but I cut the cocaine in a really shitty way I guess with the twenty dollar iTunes gift card Derek got from his older sister before she died and never spent that I swiped from Derek's dresser because a rock of it gets caught in the back of my throat and I'm coughing up phlegm mixed with the blood of the girl I ate yesterday and who knows what else, veins and arteries. The words **just say you're not into it** appear beneath the coke on the back on the back of the CD cover as I snort another line and convulse. My eyes flicker. Psychic energy.

 

I'm sitting cross legged on the broken diving board hovering above the empty pool in the park that's been abandoned for about fifty years or something and the words CONVERGE and ABAIT are sprawled in graffiti around the rim which is covered in trash and condoms filled with dead spunk. Derek sits directly opposite, untied sneakers hanging perilously above the abyss and smoking a thin menthol cigarette and listening to some pop shit on his iPhone 3GS through headphones and beneath the thundering noise from the headphones I can hear his bladder slowly filling up inside his body. I'm connected to everything. Intestinal oozing. Blood rushing to nowhere. I'm so starving I'm hallucinating. I could bleed a horse man. I'm RAVENOUS okay.

 

Above us the moon sort of hangs. Fills me with vacant uneasyness and general bad vibes. I feel weak. I'm gonna have to soon. The air around the pool smells otherworldly and weird. The pool is probably mystical, I remind myself. A portal to another world. Dimensions converge. Or you know.

 

It's freezing tonight in the park and I'm shirtless with light black probably dark gray maybe I don't know jean shorts with most of the butt torn out but I love them anyway but I'm not really that cold at all because well you know and the air around the portal warms and maybe glows. I hold two fingers to my wrist just to feel nothing and get excited and wild. TONIGHT. RIGHT NOW man. Pull out the iPhone 5 I stole from Scott McCall's dad like two weeks ago when I sucked the marrow out of his fucking bones and ate his fucking eyeballs just because and send a quick iMessage to Derek on the other side of the pool that says: (I'm probaly gonna kill you idk) with an emoticon of a smiley face wearing sunglasses. Derek is wearing an ugly jacket he probably got from Urban Outfitters lmao and the pulse pounding into my skull from across the psychic chasm between us inside his chest quickens and skips. Pee runs faster.

 

I am the coolest motherfucker I know and I am going to kill Derek tonight at the psychic pool in the middle of the park and suck out absolutely everything he is and no one is ever going to find him because I am so fuck)sdhvfd cvxving gnarly and hungry and also so turned on I just what the fuckcck

 

iPhone message sound and Derek takes off the headphones fucking finally and looks up at me with the biggest saddest eyes I've probably ever seen and my dick in my dark black jean shirts spurts blood and pre come into my Ralph Lauren underwear and he says shakily: “what?” and I'm smiling the absolute worst smile as the fangs descend from my gums and cut painfully into my lips the taste of ice cold black blood in my mouth and I'm slithering like totally reptilian against the outside of the pool toward him and as my pupils fade away and the black ooze fills my slitted irises he actually pees himself there on the edge of the pool but that only gets me wetter as I descend and I catch the reflection in his shaking eyeballs of my floating bodiless jean shorts with the biggest boner beneath and he says: “please” and I say: “no” and he starts crying ugh and basically I devour him completely. There's nothing left. Empty carcass. Scraps. MIST.

 

Haha.


	2. Derek

Stiles hands me the Mayday Parade CD with four lines of coke on it and I sigh and say: “okay” but I only do one line because I'm really bored and tired and my mouth tastes like shit from cigarettes and diet Dr. Pepper and coke always makes me talk a lot and tonight I don't feel like talking like at all and Stiles is talking but to himself anyway and when I pass the CD back with three lines left on it he snorts two and licks up the other one and then starts to cut like five more with the twenty dollar iTunes gift card I gave him for his birthday because I thought it felt impersonal enough that neither of us would feel weird or whatever but I wanted to get him something anyway because you know. Inside the card I wrote: **happy birthday or whatever. Derek.**

 

The water in the pool looks surreal and I'm wondering if drowning is worth it and then I'm wondering what would be the most painful way to die and then what am I gonna watch on Netflix alone tonight when I get home and how many cigarettes do I have left am I hungry do I have an erection?

 

The air around the pool smells like the good kind of body odour because Stiles is shirtless and it's kind of really warm in the park around the pool tonight. He's wearing jean shorts and all black Vans hi-tops and I'm wearing like green dark green chino shorts with my sneakers kind of swaying lazily above the still water and the laces on my left shoe are undone and submerged and I'm listening to Demi Lovato on my iPhone through headphones because like I said I don't want to talk to Stiles tonight and besides Stiles isn't talking to me anyway, just staring at his reflection in the back of the Mayday Parade CD he swiped from my bedroom. I like that he took it, I don't know. Maybe he'll think of me later. Maybe he won't.

 

A text message from Stiles. It says: **I think I liked you more before**.

 

And I reply: **same**. Emoticon of a smiley face wearing sunglasses.


End file.
